


Days Gone By

by MB234



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MB234/pseuds/MB234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl Dixon x reader; Selection of one shot's featuring Daryl Dixon x female reader; continuing story, but no full fledged plot. Comment if you like what you read; smut in later chapters;  maybe some Spencer x Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Gone By

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you squinted in the late afternoon sun, aiming your bow and arrow carefully. The mottled brown coat of the unsuspecting deer blended in almost perfectly with the overgrown forest around you but you had your sights set on its slender throat. It's head was bent low, the animals’ neck sloping downwards in a graceful arch as it grazed calmly. Your dog Zeus, your only remaining companion, stood crouched at your side, his sharp German Sheperd senses focused entirely on your prey. He was the only thing left from your old life, the only remaining vestige of a pre-apocalyptic world. The fact that Zeus was an outside dog and as such had never become accustomed to pampering probably saved his life, and had undoubtedly saved yours. You’d camp side by side, your head resting on his furry stomach, lulled into slumber by the gentle rise and fall of his breaths, his deft ability to smell the dead ones before they approached a priceless advantage in this strange new world.

The forest around you was ashen, all grays and browns, even the sun peeking through the leaves providing meager light for your keen, hunting eyes. The only thing that stood out against the textured bark of the trees was the splash of red blood that had sprayed wildly as your loosed arrow pierced the jugular of the deer. You lowered your bow, slipping it around your body so that it lay across your back, allowing you freedom of movement. Dropping a hand onto the head of the hungry canine by your side, you scratched his ears that were perked in interest, cooing to him quietly. He’d been good during the hunt, helping you track the deer, staying silent despite his growling stomach.

The sudden prospect of a hearty meal made your own stomach grumble in response, your steps hastening as you moved towards your prize. Zeus pranced excitedly as you reached the fallen animal, his paws thumping out a gleeful rhythm on the leave-littered ground. A smile quirked your lips in response and a sudden wave of gladness washed over you at having his boisterous energy around; certainly you’d have gone insane long ago without it. A warm wind wound its way through the trees, ruffling the faded grey tank top you wore and playing at the hair that fell loose down your neck, making a few stray strands tickle your cheeks. This day was shaping up to be not so horrible, the warm weather and sudden meal making an alien sense of calm settle in your chest.

You knelt by the deer, surveying its wound. Thankfully your shot had been a merciful one; the deer would die quickly and with minimal suffering. Say what you will about the apocalypse but it sure as shit improved your marksmanship. A major drive behind that was necessity, but damn if it wasn’t just the tiniest bit satisfying hitting your target every time.

Your father had been a military man, an alpha male all the way, and he’d made a point to teach his daughters to shoot and fight. Though he’d cared for his children in his own cold, harsh way, there was no love lost between you two. He’d had a bad temper, taking out his anger on your mother, often leaving her bruised and bleeding while he left to get stumbling drunk. You’d sit with her in the flickering light of your dirty kitchen, your arms around each other while she cried softly. She’d apologize and make excuses for him, resting her bloodied head on your shoulder while you’d silently curse him for hitting her, for making you play the role of the mother while you should have been the daughter.

You snapped firmly back into the present as you felt the cold press of Zeus’s nose into your palm, his soft whines belying his impatience for his next meal. You rubbed his chest and huffed out a shaky breath, worry clouding your mind as the voices of the past pressed more firmly on you. You’d been dwelling more and more on your life before the shift as the lonesome weeks stretched into months, replaying scenes from your childhood, your brief college days and everything in between as you’d survived, alone, with only Zeus by your side. You were a little worried that you were starting to lose your grip on reality, though you’d long ago accepted the hard edges around your eyes and the mistrust that had settled alongside the constant watchfulness coloring the new, dark pattern of your life.

Dropping your heavy laden pack, you unsheathed the large hunting knife strapped to your belt, next to your gun, and hastily set to dressing your kill. As you worked you tossed a few good bits to Zeus, laughing with delight as he jumped to catch the raw pieces in his mouth, his tail wagging fast as the blades of a helicopter.  You got done quickly, stashing the edible slabs of flesh into an empty garbage bag to be cooked later once you found a safer campsite.

The warm breeze suddenly turned icy, sending a chill skittering down your spine just moments before Zeus erupted in a low, menacing growl, his hackles raised in aggression. You went on instant alert, knowing well enough by now to trust the Shepherds instincts, crouching as you slung your pack over your shoulder in preparation to run. Sure enough a twig snapped nearby followed quickly by a soft exclaimed curse.

Humans.

Walkers you could deal with, you had weapons to spare and could outrun any dead one, but humans were a gamble. The only people left in the world were usually the worst kind and you didn't stick around long enough to find out if your assumptions of character were wrong. Guilty until proven innocent was the law of the land now, each person a judge, jury and an executioner. Better to assume the worst than to regret not doing so later. You slipped your gun from its holster in your belt and raised it with steady hands in front of you. You were about to signal to Zeus to attack when a man stepped out of the bushes, his arms raised and a warm smile on his face even as his eyes flicked from you to the menacing animal at your side.

“Hey there, nice dog, “He said, his voice calming and tinged with just a hint of amusement, “My name is Aaron, I’m a friend. And I’d like to help you.”

You studied him, sizing him up, looking for any weapons that he might be packing. A small gun was tucked into his belt, but he didn’t reach for it. He looked clean and well fed, the complete opposite of what you felt at this moment.

“How can you help me?” You asked, your voice sounding husky and broken, the result of too many days spent in silence.

He smiled in response, a sincere kind of smile that you hadn’t seen since before the shift. The action caught you off guard and you lowered your weapon just a fraction, suddenly intensely curious about him and this help he claimed he could give you. He was about to speak when another rustle sounded to the right. The abrupt, unexpected noise made you snap to attention again, your weapon raised once more, your gaze fierce.

“How many people are with you?” You hissed, suspicion seeping into your chest, dowsing the fiery hope that had started to kindle there.

“Just one other guy,” Aaron said, his gaze pleading as he implored, “I promise you, it’s just the two of us. We have a community not far from here where you and your dog can be safe. Where you won’t have to just survive, you can thrive.”

You eyed him warily, untrusting of the promises he was telling you. “Where’s the other guy, I want to see him.”

Aaron nodded, his arms still raised as he turned to the side calling, “Daryl, come out please.”  
  
That name pricked at your subconscious, dredging up memories from years ago of steely blue eyes half hidden beneath a dirty fall of dark hair, of an act of kindness from a young boy so sweet and innocent that it stuck with you to this day. You shook your head to clear it of the ghosts of your past, as if that would help, squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment before snapping them open again.

You were greeted by the sight of a man skulking out of the trees, his hands by his sides instead of held up in surrender despite the gun pointed at his face. His movements were fluid and catlike, a certain kind of grace to his steps. He looked slightly dirtier than the other man, though he appeared to be just as well fed. So maybe this Aaron was telling the truth, maybe there was a camp, a community nearby. You scanned the man, seeing a wicked looking crossbow strapped to his back and a knife at his belt, his dark denim and leathers travel stained but relatively unsoiled. You flicked your eyes to his face, studying the cut of his stubble lined jaw and the thick hanks of hair that hung in his face. Piercing blue eyes peered at you predatory, meeting your gaze unflinchingly as you stared at each other.

Another memory sparked, this one closer than the last.

_A small shaky hand holding out his last candy bar to you, an offering of friendship, the young boy it belonged to crouched and shivering in the falling blanket of the autumn night. Eyes blue as rainswept lakes meeting yours._

It couldn’t be him, could it? Your breath hitched as your searched the man for any signs of the boy you knew from so long ago. Sure enough he was there in the slope of his shoulders beneath that leather vest, in the tilt of his head as he regarded you, but the eyes were completely different, hardened somehow. And then he spoke.

“What the hell are you starin’ at?”


End file.
